“Mama, you know he will earn acceptance… His fighting capabilities are off the chart. Instructor Cusak has to acknowledge his increasing strength, speed, and skills when they spar. It’s crazy to watch, but I put him near his second-level badge already, toward reaching first mastery. I know there are eight badges, but…” Shasis cut off her voiced reassurance.

“That is the problem with you and your father. It’s all about fighting and endurance. What about his emotional balance? A tree can only sway so deeply before the branches break.” Yilta continued to pace within the small confines of the dining area.

Shasis sipped from her teacup and enjoyed the berry flavors, followed by the crisp mint. She’d wondered how long it would take her mother to bring the argument back around to confirming Spirito’s mental hardships. It was why her Da asked her to spend time with her mother since they had not received the requested invitation back from the academy yet. Da went to check the posting board again. He’d been going twice a day since the first batch of other student-potentials showed up. So far, nothing for Spirito. She questioned if she should bring up her brother’s confidence or resilience. Without conscious thought, she tapped her claw against the cup as she hesitated on how to respond. 

“I swear Shasis, if you are doing that counting thing with me, I will go outside and get a switch off my Aldor tree for your father. It does not matter what age you become.” 

Shasis knew her eyes widened, not from the implied threat, but from the fact her mother knew about her counting game and that she was bringing it up against her. Shasis knew that there was no anger behind it. Her mother was truly beyond upset.

“I’m not counting mother. I was…thinking. What do you believe is going to happen to Spirito? I mean, worst case? It is, after all, an education training with more than just fighting. It’s not like he is being kidnapped or tortured.” Even as she said it, she knew half her mother’s troubled distress. A lot of the academy was a huge mental game, teaching children to understand massive concepts of war and survival. It wasn’t all teamwork, honor code, and ethics. The stress was incredible, the fear of failure, the bullying, the hazing of older students, and the immediate if not horrific exposure to violence.

In mid-step, the pause her mother made at the remark stopped her rapid tail swishing. Her face, which was rigid with grimness, looked over at Shasis sitting at the kitchen table. She pressed her lips tight and her gray eyes hardened with condemnation. Shasis could not even hold her gaze.

“The academy teaches children. Many good things, I’m sure. But my son is not just an ordinary canid, who thinks he will learn to fight to such a degree as to protect the planet royalty. He has too big of a heart to narrow his focus on just that realm. I am afraid for him because he will step into a place that promotes aggression that will conflict with his values. He holds the belief that any solution can lead to peace. In his mind he sees a myriad of colors, from white to black and those in between, which means he believes he can solve any troubles if he looks hard enough.  In his eyes, it is not winning or losing, but rising with your best self to play the game. His tree in this forest doesn’t compete to be the tallest or the widest; it simply strives to grow towards the light, weathering storms and adapting to the changing seasons. If you don’t know this about your brother, you do not know him as well as I thought.”

Shasis bowed her head. She did know her brother and the truth her mother spoke was complete. She wanted to argue against her mother’s insight but knew the idea was useless. Spirito wasn’t the first to battle without learning the argument.  “What could you do?” She said with a slight shrug.  “Do you really want to ignore his potential and remove his future? It could damage him almost as much.”

Yilta sniffed. “If I thought it might do any good, I’d keep him locked in his room until he agreed to forget this teaching of the way nonsense or attend that barbaric school and find another path to take. He is smart enough to do it.  But you and your father have doomed that pathway.”

Shasis stared at her mother.

“No, not by telling him differently. I know you’ve been brutally honest with him…to a degree. No use scaring the mottling from his pelt. It’s the way you two are. Just the way you think. The way your world has invaded his, by example. He sees you as the lead bird.”

Shasis gave a small smile. Her mother’s analogy of the lead bird of a flock flying in formation, cutting through the wind, creating an easier path for the ones behind it, was so familiar. She’d been told to lead as an example by both her parents. And she saw her role as a protectorate as taking the most challenging position. She was leading for others to follow. As did her Da and his Da. “Well, we do tend to maintain a pretty consistent formation.”

“Yes, it’s incorrigible,” Yilta said with absolutely no scorn. She pulled out a chair and sat with a heavy thump. 

Shasis leaned forward to her mother and caught her distraught gaze as she said, “Do you recall that time when Spirito came inside the house covered in mud with a ripped shirt?” Shasis saw her mother’s ear flicker. “He claimed he was chasing a butterfly and slipped falling into the ditch just over near Pesit Street?” Shasis shook her head at his lame excuse. His paws had scrapes, and the seam of his pant leg was unraveled at the cuff. His story didn’t hold weight for his disheveled state. “I finally found out what happened. It bugged me he was reluctant to leave home for a few weeks. I even invited him to come to the palace, and he declined. Well, that week city officials freed the captive-bred Glory Birds out at the fringe lakes. The conservationists from the Wildling Breeding Range and a few other ranges planned to reintroduce the population through a mass release early in the morning. Spirito decided he was going to go watch. And I guess he snuck out of the house in the dark and walked the fourteen miles to a fringe lake entrance and joined other canid who were going to the event.”

Yilta looked at her, puzzled. “He walked? That far?”
Shasis nodded. “Yes, and while he was there, he saw older kids piling up rocks at the lake’s edge. So when he asked them what they were doing, they were going to knock the released birds down with stones so they could collect the silver feathers. He, of course, got into it with them until a park ranger showed up and broke up the skirmish.  Although if that were the right name for it, I might have hunted down those kids and beat them myself. But he was successfully whooping tail, as usual.” Shasis grinned. 
Yilta sighed.
“No Mama. There was a bit more before the fighting ever took place.  Just preceeding the tail whooping and how those little cretins were starting to push him around he challenged them.” Shasis tilted her head.

Yilta closed her eyes and rubbed her brow. “He always chooses the more arduous journey.” 

“He claimed the fight wasn’t just about stopping them from harming the birds. It was because they needed to understand the trouble these creatures were in and how they weren’t able to protect themselves from the planet without our help.” Shasis said.

Yilta’s eyes grew brighter.

“He tried to raise those boys to a higher level than they were.  Educate them to understand the weak are not prey.  Although he failed to reform the terrors on that day, I don’t believe he failed to change them overall. They will remember the boy who beat them senselessly. And I really don’t think Spirito will ever forget who he is and what his beliefs are. No matter how anyone tries to change him.” Shasis held out her paw to her mother.

Yilta blew out a breath and joined paws.

The front door opened and Salor stepped into the house.  His eyes were dark, and he panted with quick breaths as if he’d been running. “Is Spirito here?” he asked, glancing at the direction of the hallway, toward the boys’ room.

Yilta shook her head.  He is over at the training center with Instructor Cusak. Why? What’s the matter?” She rose from her chair, her paws shoved into her apron but clearly balled into fists.

Salor drew a deep breath and rubbed his paw over his head roughly, which remained sticking upward.  He glanced at Shasis and back to Yilta.

“I got letters from the academy.  I think one could be an invitation.” Spirito said with some doubt, as he pulled out white objects from his vest.  He laid them on the table and spread them out.  All five were square envelopes, matching in size, and they listed Spirito’s name hand-written on their surface.  The scriptwriting varied across them.

Yilta, Shasis, and Salor looked at them in fascination.

“Five? Why are there five, Da?” Shasis semi-whispered.

“I don’t know.  I…don’t…” Salor shook his head. His puzzlement was complete when he took one off the table and held it to the light, but put it down just as quickly.

“We have to wait for him,” Yilta stated firmly, her voice calm, buried steel laced within her tone. “Patience can be a bitter seed, but it grows the sweetest fruit.”

Shasis and Salor looked at her, both with open mouths to say something but neither one speaking.

“I’m going to go cook dinner.” Yilta took her paws out of her pockets and wiped them across her double-wrapped apron tie.  She reached behind her and tightened it, a motion she performed when she was nervous. 

Shasis and Salor watched Yilta walk into the kitchen, her tail swishing slowly in thought.  Soon they heard her pulling out containers of foodstuff.  They both gave each other a look and Shasis grimaced.  “I hate it when she has those sayings at the ready.  It’s disturbing.” Shasis mumbled.

Salor said nothing, but his swallowing was enough.

They both looked back at the five envelopes.

“I’ve never heard of someone receiving five invites, Da.”

“Well…” Salor scratched his nose. “There may have been a mistake?”

Shasis shook her head back and forth. “Maybe there are different Doha instructors wanting to train him in the same way? I mean, he is quite good. Any master would want him as a student.”

Salor harrumphed at her.

Shasis looked up at him and grinned.  “Did you swallow a bitter seed?”

Salor scratched his chin and lifted his brow ridge.  “I think it’s time for a game of Chittel.”

The widening of Shasis’ eyes gave away her surprise. 

“Have you been playing Latik? You should have advanced experience by now.  We will bring the stone count to twenty.”

“But, Da.  That is…” She held her paws out and lifted her shoulders.  “Nobody can play twenty stones and have a decent game?  That’s like handing someone a pocket knife and saying cut down that forest over there.”

Salor nodded agreement, but he walked over and pulled out the board and the bag of stones, regardless.  “Yes, it makes the player very creative. For instance, perhaps that pocket knife finds a nest of termites or wood mites and impales it to force the bugs to help you out?”

Shasis stared at him.

He brushed the invitations off to the side of the table lay the board on the surface, and plopped the bag upon the surface.

****

An hour later, deep in the game, Shasis was about to sacrifice her last three stones in her father’s path when Spirito arrived home.

“Hey Shasis. What are you doing at home?” He ran over and hugged her.  

“Letting you save Da from losing another game to me, squirt. Thank goodness you showed up in time. I’m just here to find out the news.” She said grinning as she rapidly stood and swiped the remaining stones back into the bag, ignoring her father’s ‘Hey’ of protest.

“What news?” Spirito looked between her and his Da.

Salor looked toward the kitchen, then back at Shasis. 

“Dinner first.  Then we can share it together. You’d better go get cleaned up before Mama smells you.  Whew!” Shasis waved her hand in front of her nose.

The boy was dripping sweat and yet looked completely ready to go another round.

“I learned a cool grapple hold today.” Spirito held up a paw.

“Tell me all about it when we eat.” Shasis turned him and pushed.

“Yeah. Maybe you can show me the right way to escape it.” He rushed to his room.

“There’s no escaping it now, buddy,” Shasis remarked, softly, looking back at her da.

Salor was sitting with his paw under his chin as he held his breath.

* * *